


mr mothman take me by the hand

by Macremae



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Cryptids, M/M, PWP, Smut, The Mothman, Trans Male Character, Trans Newton Geiszler, West Virginia, cryptid hunter au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-06-07 12:34:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15219251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Macremae/pseuds/Macremae
Summary: Newt goes hunting for the mothman.





	mr mothman take me by the hand

**Author's Note:**

> newton geiszler: the mothman is real and he ate me out in the tnt area of west virginia

Newt was seventeen, hungover as shit, and eating a pizza shaped like the mothman.

It was a damn good pizza, all things considered. There were olives and pepperoni, and just the right amount of cheese. It also helped that the toppings formed a picture of his favorite cryptid of all time, but besides that, not too shabby. 

“Not from around here?” the waitress had asked, eyeing him when she brought the food. Newt shoved his hands into his coat pockets and tried to push his face into his collar. 

“Uh— nope, not really,” he said. The waitress looked at him.

“Your parents around somewhere?” she said. Newt looked away. 

“I’m nineteen,” he grumbled. “Thanks.”

She didn’t look like she believed him, but put the pizza down and refilled his drink. He paid, so, Newt supposed, it didn’t really matter either way.

He was staying at a small bed and breakfast in town, run by and older couple who insisted on making him hot chocolate when he came in from the snowy outdoors. Newt grinned and cupped the mug in his hands, letting the heat trickle in through his cold fingers.

“So,” the woman, Sydney, said, “you’re here for the mothman, right?”

Newt nodded. “Yeah; my classes are over for the semester, so I’m just doing a little time here until my dad and uncle get back from Germany.”

Her husband, Justin, passed her a mug. “We get a lot of folks come ‘round these parts looking for the big guy. Hear some buck wild stories too. Honey,” he said, turning to Sydney, “you remember that lady a while back with the fancy hair?”

“It was Pam, junebug. She and her husband came through for the festival.”

“I’m pretty sure it was her son with her.”

“Nope, definitely her husband.”

Newt laughed. “You guys have a festival?”

“Sure do,” said Justin. “Every October. You just missed it by a month or so. Real fun for the kids, too.”

“Charlie brought her daughter this year, didn’t she?” Sydney said. Justin nodded. 

“Have you two had any sightings?” Newt said.

“Justin has. Tell him, junie.”

“Well,” said Justin, “I was out ‘round the TNT area a few years back, taking Rancho for a walk. He was getting real agitated, and I started to head back, when I heard this sound behind me. I turned around, pointed my flashlight at the noise, and there he was! He was tall and hairy, with bright red eyes and a big, furry pair of antennae. I started to run, but he just flapped his wings, which were just massive by the way, and off he went! Took Rancho home, told the police, and that was the end of that. Haven’t seen him since.”

Newt’s eyes were wide with excitement. “Where’s the TNT area?”

“Just outside of town, in the woods near all those stone igloos. Real creepy at night, but if you’re looking for the mothman, that’s the place to go.”

Newt jumped up from his chair, leaving his hot chocolate half finished on the table. “Thanks Mr. Justin, that’s exactly what I needed to know!”

—-

Newt rubbed his hands together, then clicked his headlamp on. It was a cold December night, and the stars were achingly bright in the dark West Virginia sky. The moon hung low overhead, but it wasn’t bright enough that Newt hadn’t brought a light of his own. His breath came out in little puffs, and he stomped his feet together to keep warm.

He walked across the forest floor, dead leaves crunching beneath his feet. Moonlight filtered through the thin canopy of trees, leaving patches of watery light on the ground below. Newt pulled his coat collar up around his neck and shivered.

It was deadly quiet, with only the sound of his footsteps for company. Newt licked his chapped lips and glanced around, the light on his head swinging with his movements. There were a few shining yellow eyes, and the flapping of an owl perched in the trees.

Suddenly, a crackling noise came from just a few yards ahead. Newt froze. 

He crouched down and began to move slowly through the trees, keeping low to the ground. There was a large shape up ahead, moving slightly around a small clearing. Newt’s headlamp didn’t quite reach that far, but his heart pounded with nerves and excitement.

He slipped behind a tree, then switched his headlamp off, peering at the moonlit clearing in front of him. What he saw took his breath away.

The shape was a tall creature with massive leathery wings folded onto its back. It’s body was covered with short brown fur, with a large ruff around the neck. Two large, red eyes bulged out of its face, and above that were a pair of long, thin antennae. It was muscular and steady, with large hands and long, almost delicate fingers. 

Newt bit down on his bottom lip trying to rein in his excitement. This was unmistakably, _unquestionably_ the mothman.

He gulped, shifting his weight back a little to settle into a more comfortable stance. Then, beneath his foot, a twig snapped.

The mothman’s head flew up, and their wings puffed and rose in panic. They turned to look where Newt was hiding, and let out a long, echoing squeak.

Newt quickly stepped out from behind the tree, raising his hands up in surrender. “It’s okay!” he said, “you’re fine! I’m not gonna hurt you.”

When the mothman didn’t move, he took a few steps forward. “See? Everything’s cool, dude. It’s just me and you.”

The mothman cocked their head, staring at Newt. Then, they bounded forward. Newt yelped and took a few shaky steps back, his back hitting the trunk of the tree.

The mothman leaned forward, and Newt shut his eyes tight. He heard snuffling sounds, and felt soft fur brush his cheek. With a whole lot of trepidation, he opened his eyes-- and found the mothman gazing straight back.

“Jesus shit!” Newt shouted, nearly leaping a foot in the air. “Warn a guy next time!”

The mothman didn’t respond, but sniffed at Newt’s neck. Newt giggled a little. “Whoa, dude, that seriously tickles.”

They sniffed some more, leaning down to nose at Newt’s chest. Newt gulped. “Uh, what’re you doing there, buddy?”

When their nose prodded at Newt’s crotch, he yelped again. “Hey! Okay! Uh, let’s be careful around there, yeah?”

The mothman looked up at him, eyes wide and unblinking. In the moonlight, they almost looked… tender.

Newt was beginning to get a very strange, very bad, very awesome idea.

“You’ve never seen a human up close before, have you?” he asked. 

The mothman seemed to chirp in reply.

“You, uh, you wanna take a look? I don’t mind as long as you’re careful.”

Another chirp, this time longer.

Newt nodded. Okay. He was actually doing this.

“Right, uh, don’t freak out; I’m just gonna get my jacket, okay?” he said. Newt fumbled with his zipper, unzipping his jacket and shrugging it off onto the ground. He then pulled off his hoodie and unbuttoned his shirt, until his top half was clad only in his scarf and binder. The mothman sniffed at it.

“Sorry buddy,” Newt said, “but that’s not coming off.”

The mothman nosed at the fabric, then opened his mouth. A long, pink serpent of a tongue unfurled, sliding over Newt’s ribs and playing with the seam of his binder. Newt gasped.

“H- Holy shit. That’s, uh… that’s pretty cool.”

The mothman glanced up at him, then slowly trailed their tongue down to Newt’s jeans. Newt bit down on his lip hard, asking himself silently if he actually wanted to fucking do this.

Then, as he had said many a time in his very young life, he decided, fuck it.

Newt reached down and unbuttoned his jeans, pulling them and his boxers down. His skin was freezing in the cold night air, and he shivered.

The mothman seemed to take note of this, and spread their wings around him. Newt instantly felt a rush of warmth on his skin, and blinked in surprise. “Oh,” he said, “that’s pretty cool.”

The mothman knelt down on the ground and nosed at Newt’s folds, their tongue darting out to lick at the slick already beginning to run down his thighs. Newt let out a little gasp when their tongue slid up his inner thigh, trailing around his folds and poking it’s way inside.

The tip of their tongue swirled around his clit, tasting Newt’s slick before running across his labia. Newt let out a high-pitched moan, thankful that there was no one around to hear him. The mothman’s tongue poked at his entrance, and Newt thrust his hips forward sharply. “Fuck,” he hissed, feeling the length of the mothman’s tongue slide back and forth across his clit. “Oh my God that feels-- fuck!”

Their tongue circled one last time at Newt’s entrance before plunging in. It was long and thick and slick with saliva, and Newt-- well, Newt screamed. 

“Shit,” he moaned, “Oh shit, fuck--” as the mothman’s tongue began to pump in and out of him. He felt the slight drag of their taste buds as it moved slowly-- God, he felt so _full_. Newt thrust his hips forward, moving back and forth as the mothman fucked him with their tongue. They slid in further, pushing deeper into Newt, and he keened at the sensation.

“Fuck--” he said, “God, more please-- please-- ah!”

The mothman began to speed up their movements, bringing their large hands up to cup Newt’s ass. They pushed their tongue in hard and Newt cried out, feeling pleasure rocket through his body. He began to teeter on the edge of an orgasm, and clenched his toes as the warmth in his gut spiraled through him. The mothman’s tongue hit a certain spot inside of him, and just like that Newt was coming, his slick spilling out around the mothman’s tongue, and his mouth letting out a long, loud scream of pleasure.

The mothman fucked him through the aftershocks, pumping their tongue in and out slower and slower, until they finally pulled it out. Newt let out a shaky breath, leaning back against the tree.

“Oh my God,” he breathed. “Oh my _God_.”

The mothman nuzzled their way up Newt’s body, licking up his sweat and come. They stopped at his neck, before pulling away. Newt ran a hand through his sweaty hair.

“Uh…” he said. “Thanks. That was… absolutely crazy.”

The mothman gave one last squeak before spreading their wings, backing away, and leaping up into the sky with a loud whoosh.

Newt pulled up his pants and began to hunt around on the ground for his shirt and jacket. He pulled the rest of his clothes on, took a look around the clearing, and turned back towards the town.

No one was going to ever believe this.


End file.
